Rising Terror
by Cboo
Summary: In his 6th year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends try to find a way to still live normally at Hogwarts, while trying to uphold the school, the Ministry of Magic, and the Magical Community. Charachters property of J.K. Rowling. Please R&R. TO BE CONTD.
1. Not Wanting to Remeber

Hey everyone! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. A little Background info - this is in Harry's sixth year. Please R&R! Thanks. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 1 - Back to Hogwarts  
  
Harry shuddered slightly as an icy September wind whirled round his bare arms. He peered into the night, hoping only to see his porky cousin, Dudley. Harry jumped as he heard a whoop behind him. He slowly pulled his wand from his back pocket, and turned quickly. Thankfully, the scene that met his eyes was not that of dark wizards, but of a fat muggle and his cowardly accomplice, Piers Polkiss, beating a small child.  
Harry thought for a moment. He could take the risk of being beaten by Dudley and Piers, or he could risk the rage of his uncle for not successfully finding and bringing home Dudley and his overstuffed bottom. He weighed his options, then, deciding quickly, he taunted, "Ickle Diddykins, your mummy wants you hoome!" Dudley stopped pounding his fists in the little boy's face, and turned, looking for the source of Harry's voice. Harry could see his rage building as Piers sniggered, he cuffed Piers angrily. "Diddykins! Over here. on Magnolia Crescent!" shouted Harry, grinning from ear to ear. Dudley turned, shaking with rage, to Harry's position, but did nothing but wave goodbye to Piers as he continued to laugh.  
Thankfully, Harry and Dudley's trip home was uneventful. Dudley had run ahead, panting and wheezing. Harry heard the scream of Aunt Petunia, "Diddykins! We were worried!" Harry snorted. The least of their worries was Dudley's safety. His favorite pastime was beating on everyone smaller than him (which was just about anyone). Vernon looked contemptuously at Harry, muttering, "I told him. an hour ago. an hour to find my. son."  
Thankfully, Harry would soon be away from here. He thought longingly of Hogwarts, and decided to himself he'd even like to go to 12 Grimmuald Place, Sirius's dank house. With a pang of guilt, he remembered that Sirius was gone. He had no one. He wished Sirius had never come to save him in the Department of Mysteries. Harry put a finger to his scar, tracing it thoughtfully. Voldemort did all this. His chest burned with rage. He wished he could talk to Sirius, tell him his frustrations, his longing for a home. Voldemort. he was responsible for everything terrible that had happened in Harry's life, or so he felt.  
Harry was snapped back into reality as his Aunt screeched, "Did you hear me?!? Go to your bedroom!" He did not move. He looked at her curiously, tilting his head from one side to another, remembering the howler she had received a year before. What was it that she knew that Harry didn't? Petunia began to turn magenta, the color rising through her face as she screamed, "You've done enough to us over the years! Now go to bed!"  
Harry studied her expression for a moment, looking for answers. When he didn't find them he turned to go to his room.  
  
* * * *  
It wasn't that Harry didn't have plenty of homework to do, his teachers had made sure of that, but Harry had too much on his mind. He wondered where Voldemort was. He considered writing to Dumbledore, but quickly changed his mind, thinking a letter for no incredible reason might be bothersome to Dumbledore, who also had much to do. Harry drifted off, sitting in the chair beside his desk, thinking of his disconnection with the magical world. "I should go. talk to Mrs. Figg." he yawned. then fell asleep. 


	2. The Return to Grimmuald Place

Hey Everyone! Here is Ch. 2. The Return to Grimmuald Place. R&R! Disclaimer: Characters are property of J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 2 - The Return to Grimmuald Place  
  
Harry awoke with a start. He was being prodded by a small, sharp finger. "Harry Potter must get up, sir." "Dobby?" Harry mumbled groggily. "Dobby has come to take Harry Potter. Dobby is given break for summer holiday." Dobby said eagerly, nearly toppling off the desk with excitement, or nervousness, Harry couldn't tell which. Harry looked over Dobby. He was wearing Ron's maroon sweater, a little tea cozy as a hat, one of Uncle Vernon's foul, mustard yellow socks, and a blue sock with green hearts. His knobby little body seemed slightly smaller and thinner than when Harry had last seen him, in the kitchens at Hogwarts. "Where are you taking me Dobby?" Harry asked, noticing the definite droop in Dobby's ears. "Dobby is taking Harry Potter to where Dumbledore is asking." Dobby said, puffing out his tiny chest with pride. "Dumbledore. then you're taking me to Grim- " Harry managed before Dobby clapped his hands over Harry's mouth. "Harry Potter must not say where is Dobby taking him, sir." he whispered, "Dumbledore is not wanting it said." Harry nodded understandingly.  
Often while Harry packed his bags, Dobby would squeak something like, "Socks is my favorites clothes," or, "Dumbledore is saying Harry Potter is to be gotten!" Harry found this slightly annoying, but was glad to be going back to Sirius's house, even if Sirius wouldn't be there. As Harry finished packing, he picked up his owl's cage. Hedwig was hunting, but how would he let her know where he had gone? He thought for a moment. "Dobby," Harry started, but before he could finish, as if his mind was being read, Dobby answered, "Dobby will come to find Harry Potter's owl when Dobby has taken Harry Potter. where he needs go." Harry felt relieved, but stuck his head out the window, looking around, nonetheless. He turned to Dobby and wondered why, the last time he had left the Dursleys, he had had a huge group of wizards protecting him, while now, Dobby was alone taking him back to Grimmuald Place. Then he remembered something he had heard before, "House elves have their own, powerful kind of magic." A scene came to Harry's mind. Right after he had freed Dobby, his furious owner, Lucius Malfoy, had rounded on Harry. Dobby had struck him with a very powerful spell that knocked the wind out of him. Still, he was apprehensive. Was one small house-elf an equal match to 6 or 7 fully trained wizards? He hoped so. "Okay, Dobby, I'm ready."  
Dobby hopped up of Dudley's pile of books he had never read. "Harry Potter is to be coming with Dobby on his broom." Dobby said, matter-of- factly. "Both of us? With the trunk?" Harry questioned, looking slightly intrigued. "Yes, sir, Dobby hears it with his own ears." Dobby said. "Oh. okay." Harry turned to grab his Firebolt, but it was gone. Oh no he thought, what happened?! Realizing what had happened, Dobby stepped forward, his already huge eyes bulging. "Harry Potter is in great danger," he told Harry, "Dobby must use magic that Dobby isn't to be using!" A lump formed in Harry's throat as Dobby moved him towards his trunk. His Firebolt was gone. who had taken it in the minute that they had not looked in that direction? Harry didn't want to think about it.  
Dobby was waving his hands about and Harry saw his trunk lift from the ground and start to whirl around him. "Dobby, what are you -" Harry began, but his words were cut off when he saw himself outside a grungy house, which seemed to have appeared suddenly. What had Dobby done? Whatever it was, it was effective. He thought about ringing the bell or knocking for a moment, then reconsidered, remembering the horrible screeching of the portrait of Mrs. Black.  
He slowly opened the door and crept in, his sneakers making 'poof' sounds on the dusty, old carpet. He could hear yelling downstairs in the kitchen "YOU SENT A HOUSE ELF TO GET POOR HARRY!? YOU TELL US WE ARE NEVER TO STOP OUR WATCH AND YOU ENSURE HIS SAFETY WITH A HOUSE ELF?!" Harry recognized the voice as that of Ron's protective mother, Mrs. Weasly. Dumbledore's voice was added to the mix of commotion, creating silence quickly, "Now Molly, he sent the house elf on my instructions." Harry crept to the foot of the stairs, not wanting to alarm Mrs. Black, or the group in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly spoke again, "Well, sir, but. one house elf. are you sure that's. well, wise?" "I have the utmost confidence that Dobby is capable." Harry then heard the low growl of Moody, "Dobby did very well. Potter is sitting up on the step." 


End file.
